


Returning the Favor

by littlestarofthewest (sternchencas)



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur/female reader, Cunnilingus, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Power Dynamics, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-11-02 16:14:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20791523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sternchencas/pseuds/littlestarofthewest
Summary: You get robbed by the most handsome man you've ever seen and he disappears into the night. What do you do when he comes back bringing you a gift?





	Returning the Favor

**Author's Note:**

> About the "mildly dubious consent" tag: both parties are very willing, but the general situation is somewhat "dubious" and I just want to make sure nobody gets triggered. If you want more info, feel free to hit me up on tumblr -> [littlestarofthewest](http://littlestarofthewest.tumblr.com)
> 
> This is the first female reader insert I've ever written in my life, so please be nice :)  
Could turn into a multi-chapter thing if there's enough interest.

You quickly make your way along the empty street. It's getting dark, meaning that the decent folks head home while the night makes room for the delinquents. So far, you've been fine, mainly since people around here know that you're a woman who can hold her own and that you're carrying a nasty six-shooter that quickly ends discussions that are not going your way.

Tonight, you're unarmed, though. You made some extra dollars cleaning the Jefferson house, and Mrs. Jefferson won't have anybody with a gun on her property except for her guards.

You turn a corner, and the small hairs on your back stand up. The alley in front of you is pitch black. It's probably not a good idea to head that way, but that alley brings you right to your doorstep, and you can avoid walking past the saloon.

After a deep breath, you rush through the narrow passage. Nothing happens. The moonlight illuminates the street before you, and you're only a couple of steps away from your home. It's still too far. You know the second you hear footsteps that you're in trouble.

A dark figure steps out into the street right in front of you, the moonlight glistening on the barrel of the stranger's gun. It's pointed at your chest. "I'm very sorry about this, Miss, but I have to check you for valuables."

The deep voice sends shivers down your spine, but fancy words don't change the fact that you hate to be bullied. "That's an impressing way to phrase a robbery."

The man lifts his head just a fraction, his face no longer hidden by his hat. You should probably wonder why he's not wearing a mask while robbing you, but you're too stunned by his looks. He's the most handsome man you've ever seen, with bright eyes and a nicely trimmed beard that invites you to touch it.

"Not trying to be impressive, Miss," the stranger says.

Not that he has to try, he just is. A head taller than you, his shoulders are so broad that there's no way for you around him, no matter how quick you are. He takes a step forward, holding the gun a little higher. "You wanna give me what you have or do I have to take a look myself?"

Usually, you wouldn't be caught dead being touched by a stranger, but this one's at least a looker. If you're getting robbed, you might as well get something out of it. And who knows, maybe there's still a way to turn this around. "I only got a few dollars. You're welcome to see for yourself."

The man raises his brows, clearly surprised. You have to hold in a laugh. It seems that Mr. Tough-Guy made an empty threat and wasn't planning on touching you at all. He clears his throat before stepping closer. "Don't move," he says, but his voice lost a little of its bravado.

You hold out your arms, and he runs his hand along your waist, checking for hidden treasures under your belt. After barely touching you, he grabs your pouch and takes a look inside. As he takes out the money from your cleaning job, you take your chance. With a swift movement, you grab his gun, and for a second you think you've got him. Then his hands grab both of your wrists. He presses you against the nearest wall with so much force that it pushes the air out of your lungs.

The man steps closer, his whole body boxing you in as he holds both your arms up against the wall. "Don't make me hurt you, miss," he growls, and there's an edge to his voice that finally makes you see the danger you're in.

"Can't blame a girl for trying," you manage to say, not ready to play the frightened victim, no matter how cold you suddenly feel.

The stranger runs his eyes all over your body as if to check that there's no other threat. His gaze drives away the cold, heating your body in a way that's utterly inappropriate for the situation. After a moment, the man presses himself against you, holding you in place while he lets one of your arms go to take the gun out of your hand. He holsters it while looking you dead in the eye, and you know what that means. He doesn't need a weapon to contain you.

"Still don't have more than those few dollars," you say, wondering what he will do about that.

"I don't need your money," he says, taking a step back and bringing your arms down in front of you. "I'll just take this."

Without warning, he slides a silver ring from your finger, and it disappears in his pocket before you get your bearings. Stepping farther away from you, he trains his gun at you again, backing away. "Now, you stay there for a bit, and we'll forget that this ever happened."

You wish you could, but there's a reason you clean houses of old hags instead of pawning a valuable ring. "That belonged to my mother," you say, unable to keep the grief out of your voice. "Please, mister, I can get you more money."

He freezes on the spot, considering your words. "I'll bring it back. Promise."

Before you can argue about it, he disappears into the dark. You run after him, but there's a soft whistle, and then you hear a horse galloping away. "You bastard!" you scream after him, not caring that other thieves might be around. They better not try anything with you tonight.

* * *

It's been a week since you lost your most valuable possession. Now, you don't care about Mrs. Jefferson's stupid rule and bring your gun along wherever you go. Standing in front of your door, you feel a sense of dread. You turn around, pointing your gun at the stranger behind you.

"Good evening, miss," he says, walking into the light.

"You got some nerve, coming back here," you growl.

The man holds up his hands and dares to smile at you. You hate that it makes him even more attractive. "Promised to bring this back," he says, holding up a small object.

Your ring is glistening in the dim light. "Why?" you ask, not quite believing what you see.

"See, I was just trying to help a friend who found himself in jail," he explains, "I didn't mean to rob you at all."

"How would my ring get your friend out of jail?"

"Pawned the ring, played some poker, got the ring back, paid the bounty," he says. "So thank you for getting my friend out, I guess."

You wish you could say something witty, but the man seems to tell the truth. If he does, it's impressive, but what really gets you is how thoughtful he was about it. "You bought my ring?"

"You said it was your mother's. I didn't want to cause any grieve."

He takes a step forward, holding out the ring at arm's length so you can grab it without having him close. You hold up your hand, and he drops the ring into your palm, stepping away again. "I figure that makes us even. We can go our separate ways, and nobody needs to know."

It's reasonable and precisely what you should do, but you've never been reasonable a day in your life. The fact that he got you still burns hot in your chest, and deep down, you know you won't forget him that easily. Besides, you don't want to let him go just yet.

"Even?" you blurt out. "I already grieved for a week, not knowing that I would get the ring back. You robbed me, and you assaulted me. We're not even."

He nods solemnly at the words. "Fair point. Then what do you suggest we do?"

You look him over, and despite telling yourself that you should just walk away, another voice deep inside reminds you how well built this man is, how polite, and how complicit. It makes all kinds of wrong ideas pop up in your head.

"What's your name?" you ask.

"Taci-," he says, but stops himself by biting his lip. "Arthur, it's Arthur."

He could have easily given you a fake name, but he chose not to. You know how he looks, you have your ring back, and you still have your gun pointed at him. Right now, you're holding all the cards, most of them because he freely gave them to you.

"Come over here," you say, sounding much more in control than you feel. Arthur considers you for a moment, but then he comes closer, and you step back into an alley that goes by your house. "Closer."

"I hope you're not planning on shooting me," he says, but follows you anyway.

"Would you beg for your life?"

"No," he says, and you know it to be true. He might do as you say, but it's his choice. He doesn't fear you or your gun. It makes matters even more exciting.

Your heart pounds faster at the thought what you're about to do. It's madness, but that's what makes it so appealing. You point your gun to the ground. "On your knees. Right here."

Again, Arthur considers you for a moment, but then he walks over without pause, falling to his knees, right into the dirt at your feet. The sight of him as he looks up to you is intoxicating, and you feel the warmth growing between your legs. "You'll do exactly as I say or I'll shoot. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

"Lift up my skirt," you say, and Arthur keeps looking at your face while his hands reach for the fabric without hesitation. As he lifts it up, you can feel the cold air around your legs, making you shiver slightly.

You use your free hand to stick your skirt into your belt, keeping it in place. Then you nod to Arthur. "Pull down my underwear."

You had partners undress you before, but giving the orders turns you on more than you thought. Arthur does as you say, but his head is down, and you miss his intense gaze. You reach down and tip your fingers against his chin. "Eyes up here, cowboy."

Arthur looks up, and despite the dim light, you think that he's blushing a little bit. You can't believe that he's that innocent, but right now, the sight does wonders to the heat in your lower belly. Even worse is the thought of how this must look for someone who walks by. You're more exposed than you've ever been in your life, but having Arthur in front of you like this makes you feel powerful at the same time.

You take Arthur's hat, putting it on your own head before fisting your fingers into his hair. As you pull him closer, you whisper: "Now, if you want us to be even, you better do a good job."

Arthur keeps looking up to you, his cheeks even more flushed. "Yes, ma'am."

If you weren't already burning, his obedient tone might do the trick. Eager to finally get what you want, you force his face between your legs.

At first, Arthur's tender, brushing his lips over your skin as if he's kissing your mouth. It takes all your willpower not to push him further, and it pays off. The kissing and nibbling arouse you more and more and the first time his hot tongue brushes over you, it feels like a stroke from a whip, hitting deep into your core.

You put away the gun, needing your hand free to hold on to a nearby post. Arthur doesn't notice. He keeps licking you with long, hot strokes before dipping the tip of his tongue between your lips. For a moment, you feel embarrassed about how wet you are, but then Arthur moans between your legs. "Jesus, girl," he curses before diving back in.

His eagerness spurs you on to move, and you roll your hips, grinding against Arthur's face. You try your best not to be too rough, but Arthur keeps moaning, uncaring if anybody hears it. Then he begins to shift his legs, and as you look down, you can see the bulge between his legs. You let him wiggle for a moment, before putting your boot right between his legs.

Arthur stops moving immediately, his deep breaths the only sound in the narrow alley. You move just enough that your boot touches him, but without any pressure. "I wouldn't move too much if I were you," you tease. "After all, we won't want you to get too comfortable, right?"

"Right, miss," Arthur breathes, "of course."

"Back to work then, honey."

You still have your hand in Arthur's hair, but you don't need to push him. He buries himself between your legs, his soft beard brushing along your thighs as he licks and sucks as if his life depends on it. You wish you could give him more orders, but all you can focus on is the tension building up between your legs.

At first, you don't even notice how Arthur's hand glides from your body upwards, but then he carefully cups your breast with his large hand, knitting the soft flesh. When you don't object, he gets more daring. With his thumb, he keeps rubbing the same spot until your nipple stands up, pressing through the thin fabric.

While his tongue dives into you, he squeezes your nipple between his fingers. Your hips buck, and this time it's you who can't hold in a moan. His hand moves to your other breast, and you can feel his other hand against your leg. It slowly rides up with a firm grip as if he wants you to know what he's doing. You have a chance to stop him, but no intention to do so.

Arthur leans back a bit, his tongue dragging over your clit in slow strokes. Then he runs his fingers along your folds, getting them wet. He moves one finger deeper inside, still giving you an out. Instead, you push down on it, making him grown. No longer teasing, he adds a second finger, sliding in and out of you at a slow pace.

Not for long, though. Your insides are burning, and with the way Arthur teases all your weak spots, there's no chance you can hold on much longer. Desperate to feel more, you tighten your grip on his hair and hold on to him while grinding over his face. Without meaning to, your boot pushes down a little, and after an initial curse, Arthur moves under you, rubbing against your boot.

He keeps moaning between your legs, each sound spurring you on even more. He no longer has a chance to do much but hold on to you. You use his fingers and face as you please, bringing yourself closer and closer to the edge. When you can feel that you're about to come, you press Arthur so close that he can't breathe. His sounds are muffled, and he struggles to move but can't escape. Having that power over him is all that you need, and you come so hard that your whole body shakes.

You hold on to Arthur for just a moment longer, and his hands grip your thighs as if he wants to push you off, but ops to dig into your flesh instead. Then his body goes rigid, and you pull back his head to see his face as he comes himself, his cock twitching under your boot. It can't be comfortable, but he moans like any whore you ever heard, hips bucking till he's all spent.

You finally let go off him and hold on to the wall behind you instead. Both of you take your time to just breathe for a while. Then you pull out a handkerchief and hand it to him. There's no use cleaning yourself up with it. You're so wet, you can feel your juice smeared all over your thighs, so you just pull down your dress.

Arthur is cleaning himself up, still on his knees. It's strange to look at him. You know nothing about him, but after what just happened, you can hardly call him a stranger.

He holds up the handkerchief for you to take, his gaze almost bashful. "Are we even now?"

"Yes," you say, not able to tease him anymore, "we're even."

You put away the handkerchief and offer Arthur your hand to get up. He's heavy, not quite able to stand yet, so he leans against the wall next to you. After a quick glance at his pants, he looks over to you. "You're an evil woman."

"Am I?" you say, laughing.

He nods. "Wish I would have met you years ago."

You take a look at his pants as well and regret that you didn't really see him come. Arthur catches your eye and winks at you as if he knows exactly what you're thinking. You quickly look away, trying not to blush, and your eyes move further down.

"Since I made you kneel down in the dirt, how about you come inside and clean yourself up," you suggest. "This is my house right here."

"You want me to come inside?" Arthur says, a nasty grin playing around his lips.

You hit his shoulder but nod. "As long as you don't steal anything."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Promise."

"Go on then, cowboy," you say, moving your hand to the handle of your gun.

Arthur lifts up his hands and walks in front of you as if you're holding him at gunpoint. It gives you an excellent chance to check out the goods from behind, and boy, do you like what you're seeing.

This is going to be a long night.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed it :)
> 
> Feel free to say hi on tumblr if you want to. I'd be happy to try my hand and requests. -> [littlestarofthewest](http://littlestarofthewest.tumblr.com)


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